


The Zacharias Thing

by CactusMcYeehaw



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Nonbinary My Unit | Byleth, Trans Claude von Riegan, and it gives me an excuse to unite my OC story with my fix it au, because we know there are students aside from the main ones, but i am adding my own characters and this story is mainly about them, canon characters are still there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-20 01:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20666783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CactusMcYeehaw/pseuds/CactusMcYeehaw
Summary: As the only child of a minor noble family in Faerghus, Zacharias  Walcott should be their family's heir. And they would, if not for one thing - they do not bear a crest.Sent to attend the Officer's Academy, they are tasked with scouting a potential heir their family could adopt. Get in, cozy up to someone with a crest, and be a good representative of their family until then. Easy enough, right?With a newfound taste of freedom away from their parents' watchful eyes, strange occurrences at every corner and deeper insights into other people's lives, though, it may prove a difficult task to fulfill.And why does something feel...off about the Church?





	1. On A Cold Winter Night

It is a dark winter night in the cold north of the Kingdom of Faerghus as the last days of the Red Wolf Moon fade away and the calendar is set to the last moon before a new year begins that begins our story.

The wind rattles at the manor’s window frames as a fresh layer of snow coats the old from nights before, and the family’s head sends a servant to retrieve the young heir from their quarters in the building’s upper west floor, his wife idly tracing across the page of an unusually thick piece of parchment.

Its material is sturdy enough to withstand its delivery from Fódlan’s center to its far end in the most dire of seasons. It is a precious, rare material, nowadays, and perhaps that is why the fair lady dares touch it only with silken gloves, eyes as much on the smooth surface as on the fine lines written upon it in deep black ink.

A curt knock on the door draws the man’s attention, while the woman’s gaze never strays from the letter, neither as the door opens with a creak nor as her child steps before them with a swift bow.

“You have sent for me, Father, Mother?”

For a short moment, the father regards his heir with a face of stone, before he beckons them toward the seat opposite the pair. They tense, briefly, and take their place. The coffee table separating them holds few items, just a deep blue tablecloth with intricate embroidery only a schooled eye would recognize as flawed.

The man holds himself not quite stiff, yet not relaxed, as he speaks,

“Martha and I have received message from the Church this afternoon. This,” he reaches for the parchment still in the hands of the woman, Martha, “is a formal acceptance for the Officer’s Academy.” He takes the letter, much to Martha’s chagrin, with his bare hand, and places it just in the table’s middle for the heir to behold.

They lean forward just too quickly, a strand of brown hair escaping their hastily-done braid, and they hurry to tuck it behind their ear. Their father takes the parchment away again, concluding they have seen all they need.

“As the start of term is the first day of the new year, the departure date is in ten days time as to not risk a delay.” Martha takes the word, back held straighter and head held high. While at eye level with her child, her demeanor lets her tower over them.

“It is common knowledge,” she continues, “that the Officer’s academy is where nobility from all of Fódlan sends those they deem worthy to represent their family. _You_, however,” Martha says, face hardening with the first word of that sentence, “have a reason aside from that to attend, but do not believe that means you can afford to neglect that aspect. Do search for a suitable heir, remember that officially, you are merely there to prepare to take on the Walcott name.”

They dutifully nod, replying, “Yes, Mother.” and file the information away, if not for the first time. With such an important task solely in their hands, and with so much at stake, they cannot risk failure.

The coldness in their father’s voice rivals that of the wind howling beyond the manor walls once Martha signals she has said what she intended.

“Understand this. The fate of our family depends on an heir who can continue our line and secure a place among those who are yet above us. Those doors are heavy. They shall be a struggle to open, and without a fitting key in the lock, we shall never archive it.”

He speaks less with volume and more with the weight of his words, the sound of his voice alone a command to listen.

“Yes, Father.”

His eyes narrow dangerously at the answer, the next words spoken slowly, with emphasis on each one.

“I ask of you, Zacharias, if you understand.”

Years of experience allow them to remain exactly as they held themselves before.

“Yes, Father. I understand clearly.”

* * *

The morning of the ninth of the Ethereal Moon is, as usual this time of year, a cold one. The winds have fortunately let up, and the rooftops of Fhirdiad are layered with a thick, pristine blanket of snow.

The carriage goes slower than it would were the ground not quite as smooth from ice, and it keeps a steady rhythm of swaying from side to side. The sunlight only just begins to filter through the curtains, the sounds of people beginning to fill the streets as the common folk prepare for another day.

Zacharias withstands the childish urge to take a quick look behind the curtain. It would simply not do for the eldest child of a noble family to display much interest in ordinary life.

Even with their parents inside and away, Zacharias is bound to follow their rules one way or another, and so they stay put, closing their eyes to to listen instead to the rummaging outside.

It is not quite noon when the noise fades and is replaced with only the horse’s hooves on the ground and the creaking and squeaking of the wooden carriage. One of the doors hangs ever so slightly loose and lets in the cold every time the carriage sways to the left.

With Fhirdiad behind them, and after a good bit of arguing back and forth with themselves over the matter, Zacharias risks a quick glance out the window where they gingerly push back the curtain far enough they argue it could be from moving so much.

White snow covers vast plains that look all the same, with the distant shape of a tree or two in the distance. They soon find it to be more boring than anticipated, not a single soul roaming about in the deathly cold and no interesting landscapes to speak of.

Zacharias had somehow expected there would be forests full of wolves and hunters everywhere, like in the book they’d read once as a child.

They shake their head thinking about it now – how silly, to expect the world to look like in children’s books.

Disappointed, they lean back again and close the curtain, the steady rocking luring them into slumber.

* * *

It rains when they arrive at Garreg Mach Monastery on the ninth of the Ethereal Moon. Through the loose door leaks the rich scent of damp earth and Zacharias allows themselves to soak it in.

It is not as cold as in Faerghus in central Fódlan, they find, but somehow, it is a bit difficult to breathe.

They wonder why, but the carriage door opening provides them with all the answer they need.

"Goddess above..."

While Zacharias is not usually one for startled exclamations, they cannot seem to help themselves at the sight that awaits them.

Walls of brown stone towering high like the castle in Fhirdiad seemingly melting into the mountain, but that is not quite it. Incredible as the monastery may be, what fascinates Zacharias are the clouds they see looking down.

Down - not up.

Their first thought is them wondering if this is what the Goddess sees, and their second if that may why they built the monastery here. Did whoever had it built wish to be closer to her?

But no. Zacharias grounds themselves. This is not the time to be standing around all speechless. They are not here on a sightseeing vacation, after all. 

The rain soaks their coat and their boots as they follow the servants carrying their luggage over towards large, foreboding doors.

And just like that, the mask they need slips into place. They need not take it off this coming year.

The curtain opens, the audience falls silent. The first act is about to begin. 


	2. Like A Puppet Play

The Archbishop, so they are told, will welcome the new students on the first day of term. Since it is still little less than one moon until then, however, a friendly nun advises Zacharias to get settled in their room and eat something after the strenuous journey.

It would be a bad idea for them to try and set their plans to motion right away, so Zacharias heads to their dormitory room first.

It’s on the far end of the lower floor. This is for the most part where common people and the children of less wealthy noble families reside, which, honestly, is why Zacharias is here. Not only on this floor, but at Garreg Mach in particular.

Being the only child in their house, they know things are by far not easy on their family. Had they they not lost their status, lost so much money, so much land, or had they someone with hopes of marrying someone who did, Zacharias would not have been sent to Garreg Mach.

But alas, the future will not rearrange itself, so send them here their parents did.

For now, Zacharias keeps all of that in mind as a motivator while going about unpacking. Books are set neatly on their shelves, displayed to be seen, as are various trinkets their family thought suitable to showcase.

Every so often, they glance at the open notebook on their desk.

Written in it are the rules they must follow, from how their room is to be organized and how they are to present themselves to what activities to take up in their free time to which subjects of study they are to pursue.

Having this booklet makes things almost too easy for Zacharias. No need to worry of how they shall proceed and what decisions to make, and that is how they can best apply all their energy where it's needed.

So, they follow the room planner section until everything looks immaculate. Father would be pleased, there is no doubt about it. With a sense of pride, Zacharias imagines for a split second the acknowledging nod before locking the notebook away in the drawer of their desk.

Alright. So far, so good.

Everything of importance is out of the way for now, and Zacharias suddenly feels exhaustion overcome them…

Well, they figure they can take a nap. Just a short one…

* * *

_Knock knock knock._

Why’s there someone at the door… Should their parents not be asleep at this time?

“Hey! You’re going to miss dinner!”

Wait. Dinner?

_Oh no._

Zacharias is out of bed before they’re fully awake. Oh, how on earth could they let this happen?

They quickly straighten out their clothing and go to rummage for their hairbrush when the door opens to reveal a girl about their age with a shock of short, blonde hair standing in the door frame.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” she states. “Well, don’t mind me then, I’ll just…” she trails off. Gives them a once-over. Just as they’re about to ask if something is the matter, she whispers,

“Zach?”

She knows them? Who is she? They rack their brain, but nothing comes up. Best to do what they trained for.

They smile and extend a hand.

“I suppose you mean me. Zacharias von Walcott, pleased to make your acquaintance.”

But they must have done something wrong, because her face falls. Nonetheless, she shakes their hand. Hers feels cold and oddly rough, rougher than any hands they’d ever shaken.

“Frieda. Just Frieda. Nice to meet you too, I guess.”

For a moment, she seems to hesitate.

“Is something the matter, Frieda?” Zacharias asks, cocking their head to the side. That seems to snap Frieda out of it, and she takes a quick step backwards like the floor had burnt her feet.

“No. Well, at any rate, dinner is ready. Charlotte – she has the room next door to yours – she says she didn’t see you come out at lunchtime.” With that, she swiftly turns and takes her leave without a second glance back.

Zacharias stands still, wondering. ‘Zach’? Did she perhaps mistaken them? Their stomach answers with a painful growl. Concluding that it’s no use thinking on an empty stomach, they head towards the dining hall.

* * *

Since Zacharias’ room is right by the greenhouse, the dining hall is not far. In fact, they can smell the food instantly, seeing as the rain has stopped. They pass by a large pond they hope they can have a look at later, and a number of cats and dogs freely roaming about.

The cats Zacharias understands. Such a huge place would need good mousers, after all, but what on earth might the dogs be for?

Stepping into the dining hall, Zacharias' thoughts are torn away from critter. They can see now why there weren’t many people outside. It seems everybody in the monastery has gathered in here, amicably chatting or devouring their food.

It hits them then, that this is indeed a _public_ place. Somewhat of a culture shock for someone who’d barely set foot out their own front door before. Everything in their house was so quiet, to now have people’s voices from all directions mixing together to form a single stream of noise throws Zacharias off, to put it bluntly.

It’s overwhelming, the first few seconds but Zacharias cannot be caught having lost their bearings.

Just get food, and look where the other students sit. Which ones might catch their parents’ eye.

Finally, they opt for a spot in between two bigger groups, frame relaxed, not looking withdrawn. Looking approachable.

It pays off eventually, when a few individuals stray from their spots to introduce themselves; soon Zacharias has trouble remembering all faces and the names belonging to each, but they do not let it show. They smile politely and exchange pleasantries and thank the Goddess their parents had them instructed on social etiquette.

Really, it’s simple once you have the hang of it – there is an undeniable structure so long as the other party plays by the script.

Once Zacharias’ plate is empty, they quietly slip away through the door through which they think they came. Only to find not the stairs down to the pond, but a well-trimmed lawn and bushy hedges.

Oh, this is _not_ ideal.

Father advised against aimless wandering, or any wandering at all. Still, if Zacharias goes back inside now, anyone who saw them leave will know they’d lost track of direction.

They put the two on opposite sides of a scale in their mind: reputation of getting lost, or wandering?

The scale tilts to the left. It does not have to be _wandering_, correct? They can simply take a walk. The scale tilts further.

Yes. A reasonable activity.

And so, Zacharias’ feet start moving down the pathway.

The night is warmer here than they are sure it is back home, but they’re still glad they brought their coat. The occasional guard passes them by, and they feel nervous each time as though they were a child caught with one hand in the cookie jar.

Said feeling has them turning on their heel and quickly striding back eventually, once they’ve decided their walk has been long enough.

And it is not one second before Zacharias sets foot inside their room and lets the door fall shut behind them that they allow themselves time to breathe. Being here is _tiring_.

They must have underestimated the high altitude if a little moving around has them so out of breath. A traitorous little voice inside their head tells them that it isn't just the air, but they will it to silence.

Either way, they will adjust.

Their evening routine is done quickly, and soon they are left with nothing to do except… well, lay in bed and try to sleep.

* * *

It’s odd how easy sleep came to Zacharias when they were inside to cold, uncomfortable carriage where they bumped their head every time the wheels hit something. And now, it evades them entirely.

After half an hour of tossing and turning to no avail, they give in at last. Throw back the covers and shiver when the chilly air greets them.

The drawer on their desk is unlocked quietly, then they light a candle and read over once more the plan:

They must bond with the other students that are already here, so that they may be seen as well-adjusted and trustworthy by those arriving later on. Once that’s done, they’ll open up and come to them with problems, and Zacharias will report to their parents, who decide the next steps.

That part is easy enough. For all the lack of exposure they’ve had to other people until now, Zacharias is not bad an actor.

They skip most of that chapter for they could recite it in their sleep. Next chapter, presentation, implores them to look studious, so they are to wear their uniform, but do show some personality.

They remember going wide-eyed when those words left Mother’s mouth. She’d then forced a dusty box filled with numerous small accessories into their hands. A bottle of subtle perfume that smells of pines, a number of colored ribbons to tie their hair with, a pair of glasses they don’t need and a purple scarf.

The glasses Zacharias had forgotten today, but if anybody were to ask, they suppose, they can say they’d misplaced them.

That chapter is skipped, as well. It’s all old news. Boring, even.

So, with a sigh, the next page is flipped open – and immediately Zacharias perks up.

This one is about their actual studies. Far less pages than the other chapters, but they are to do the learning in the classroom.

Grasping the book tightly, Zacharias begins to read.

“Study Faith to become a monk. Later add Reason until passing level for progression to Mage, then concentrate further on Faith to become a Bishop. Lance skills required – ” they groan before habitually slapping a hand over their mouth, “ – as ability to wield a lance is necessary.”

They frown. Their parents spoke so little of their education. It barely seems significant. And how they wish they could just have a different weapon.

The rest of these pages has to do with their study habits and how they should do so in the library and not their room. Offer to tutor, do not reject group study if invited. They shut the book with a sigh.

The moon throws a pale light through their window where it peeks out from behind the clouds.

Idly, Zacharias wonders why it looks so much closer, and yet so much farther here than home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this far! Comments sustain my vital energy and also boost my motivation, so feel free to leave them! Any sort of feedback, keysmash, yelling, and constructive criticism is welcome!
> 
> (also the title is temporary before i can think of something better. and provided I don't get attached to this one)


	3. Guardian Moon - And So It Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of term is upon Zacharias

The first day of the Guardian Moon, Zacharias embarks towards the library, the crisp air outside making their breath come out in clouds of mist. They pull their scarf over their nose, but that fogs their glasses, so they pull it back down in dismay. Sure, the glasses are meant to make them look more likable, but must they be so horribly inconvenient?

At least it’s warmer once they enter the Great Hall and make their way up the stairs. Everything in this building seems so old, stone walls that saw more faces than a general on the battlefield and heard countless stories.

Passing by the looming closed doors of the reception hall, they’re overcome by a strange sense of déjà-vu. For a moment, it’s enough to stop them in their tracks, and then it is as though a cold gust of wind catches them.

‘_What in the world…?’_

And just like that, it is gone.

Huh. The height of this place was really getting to them. Or maybe it was because so many magic users were in this place, perhaps magic could do things to a person’s mind in such quantities.

Zacharias idly hoped it was Faith magic. They were to study that one, Mother insisted.

* * *

The library is dark, and if the stone corridors hold stories, then this place holds all of history.

There are rows of tables neatly arranged in the middle of the room, with candlelight providing a calm, cozy atmosphere, and bookshelves filled to the brim line the walls.

It made the library seem like a good place to sit and read the day away.

A staircase leads up to a second floor, and toward the far end of the room is a large globe. They step closer, curious, and regard the carvings and writings.

There’s Fódlan – and it looks so small, next to countless places, islands, continents, so many countries and most of them Zacharias had barely ever heard the names of.

Brigid, Almyra, Morfis. Duscur has strange markings on it that differ from the clean carvings, like it had been slashed with a blade many times.

Fódlan is divided into three parts, but the writing is too small to read. Zacharias draws an imaginary line from where they assume their estate to be, and the center of the continent. It looks like such a short distance on the globe, and yet it took days by carriage.

If that had taken so long, how long would it take to travel from the northern end of the country to the southern?

Or from here to Brigid? There’s an ocean there, so how fast is a ship?

And how many years would it take to round the entire globe?

Even Deirdru is so far away. Is this why their parents never leave home and their other relatives never come by anymore? Is everything simply too far away?

Zacharias huffs to get their focus back. They really shouldn’t overthink this so much, anyway.

In their hand they have a list of approved study topics and they follow it as they rummage through the vast amounts of books. Zacharias doesn’t think they’ve ever seen this many books in one place before.

Skimming over the various titles and authors, they soon find what they seek – a heavy-looking book titled _Advanced Faith and Healing_ – and reach to pull it from the shelf.

Only to find that their hand barely grazes the wood.

“Come on.” Gritting their teeth, they stand on tip-toes, but still, the book stays out of reach.

They should stop. Really, lest they risk looking like a fool who can’t see when they need to, quite literally, step down.

Like a fool they must look, however, because they hear heavy footsteps fall behind them, and moments later a large hand reaches up and pulls the book from the shelf.

“Did you need this one?”

Behind them – or rather, towering over them – stands a young man with white hair and dark skin, holding out the book with the same neutral face Zacharias wears at home.

“Uh,” Zacharias says ever so eloquently, trying to both sink into the ground in shame and figure out why this man was helping them, before remembering their etiquette. “Ah, yes, thanks!”

Oh, Goddess. That was _terrible_. It’s okay though, they can save this.

“I’m Zacharias von Walcott. Nice to meet you!” and stick their hand out with the exact same greeting they must have used with just about everyone here.

The man takes a look at Zacharias’ extended hand, and… wordlessly places the book onto it. The weight nearly pulls their whole arm down and they quickly move to adjust their stance.

When they’re done catching themselves without much dignity, he’s already leaving. Oh, their Father will have them dragged home by the ankle if he finds out. Panicked, they shout,

“Halt! What is your name!” and immediately they want to kick themselves in the face. Someone angrily shushes them from somewhere they can’t see – perhaps a sentient enchanted book of sorts. They _need_ to stop talking. Right now, until the end of time.

The man, and they hope he at least gives them his name because they cannot keep calling him ‘the man’, stops indeed and says, so quiet they would not have caught it in a more crowded room, “Dedue Molinaro. My apologies. If you would excuse me,” and quickly takes the stairs to the second floor where Zacharias can hear somebody else bustling about.

They don’t quite know why he left so suddenly only to apologize afterward. ‘Dedue Molinaro’ rings no bells with them though, so he cannot be of much interest. If anything, Zacharias is just glad he seemed as awkward as them. Though, that does not in any way reduce their humiliation, and they leave immediately, out of the library as fast as possible.

Ugh.

‘Halt, what’s your name.’ What kind of ordinary person says that. _Nobody_, that’s who. That’s something they think a guard would say, not someone greeting a classmate (judging by the uniform). They walk faster, suppressing a groan.

* * *

It’s the second day of the Guardian Moon, and that means today is the official start of term. Zacharias stands with the rest of the now complete student body in the Great Hall where the tables and benches have been temporarily cleared away, and awaits the archbishop with them.

There are so many tall people, Zacharias cannot see much and they refuse to stand on tiptoes, so they simply fix their gaze on another student’s backside. They’ve got grass stains there.

Suddenly, all conversation dies down, and that is enough to tell them that _she_ has arrived.

“My dear students!” sounds a voice serenely, and yet demanding attention, throughout the whole hall. Without even being addressed, Zacharias stands straight and tense.

“In the name of the Goddess, I welcome you to the Officer’s Academy at Garreg Mach Monastery! May the Goddess grant you success in this year, and may you all grow closely together under her watchful eye.”

As if commanded, everybody then folds their hands in silent prayer. Zacharias follows their example, but they’re unsure if they are to ask for anything. So, they think ‘Please help me.’ and leave it at that. A fairly standard request.

The three teachers step forward, and one by one they introduce themselves and the houses they will teach. Zacharias’ house, the Blue Lions, is assigned to one “Shamir Nevrand. Nice to meet you.” who does not at all sound like she finds their meeting ‘nice’.

Zacharias can’t see her, though, so it’s hard to tell.

The professors’ voices are again replaced with the one of the Archbishop, who begins to announce the names of each student by house, beginning with the Golden Deer, led by “Claude von Riegan.”

Heads go swiveling toward the Golden Deer’s front row, and Zacharias curses their height. Not knowing which face belongs to whom will put them at a disadvantage for sure.

There are names Zacharias recognizes from the Golden Deer due to their work the past few weeks. “Hilda Valentine Goneril” was a cheerful one, she’d actually approached Zacharias before, and “Frieda Sakowski” catches their interest. She doesn’t seem like a noble, which makes her all the more interesting considering their first meeting. It still won’t leave Zacharias alone.

Then comes Zacharias’ house. “Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd” is announced as their house leader, and Zacharias is reminded once again of the difficult position they are in this year. They were told to keep away from the Kingdom’s prince, and he is part of why they must be on their best behavior at all times. They cannot risk their family falling into the bad graces of His Highness.

Then comes “Dedue Molinaro” and Zacharias nearly cringes. The one who witnessed their shameful failure at socialization. _Why_.

The room’s atmosphere seems to change. Where the announcement of His Highness had incited excited chatter, dead silence follows Dedue Molinaro. Did Zacharias miss something?

Before they can give it further thought, the Archbishop moves on to their other classmates. Zacharias knows some of them already. “Felix Hugo Fraldarius” had once snapped at them when they approached him on the training grounds the other day, and “Mercedes von Martritz” had asked them to study Faith with her and her little orange friend (Zacharias says ‘little’, but Annette is actually rather close to their own height).

The Black Eagles come afterwards, and “Edelgard von Hresvelg” catches everybody’s attention immediately. How interesting.

All three future leaders of Fódlan, all united in the school for a whole year.

Even if Zacharias would afterward quietly retreat home with somebody yet to be determined in tow, this year is sure to be a challenge.

If only they knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIIIIVE!


End file.
